"Go buy some gum and chew it and then throw it in the park and let the bums, like, find it and try to sell it." -- Craig, the boy who used to live in Cobble Hill, dishing out some bizarro street wisdom

"It's time to start spraying Brooklyn with some weird antidepressant. Calm those people down." -- Tom, proposing a potential palliative for the preposterous palaver

"You can grow little stones on your tonsils. Maybe you really are growing a peach pit, though. Have you, like, gone to this face doctor?" -- Julie from Cincinnati, speculating on Tom's condition

"He posts like it's 20 cents to use a period when he writes. Those are free. Any of those keys are there for you. They all cost the same: zero." -- Tom, reminding a Trembling Eagle about the affordability of punctuation

"I tell everybody I'm in a rock band. I'm kinda not in a rock band!" -- Norm from Montague, lying to friends and family about his hobby

"Some guy sittin' on one of the horses was tryin' to sell us crack. I kid you not. The worst part: my nephew bought some! My nephew was the one selling it. Well, he was selling cocaine. He was actually mad at the guy selling crack." -- Tom, recounting his harrowing spin on the Coney Island Carousell

"It was the spirit of competition, you creep!" -- Tor Halversom, justifying his son's spiked assault on the opposing team's weakling catcher

"You see him from like the shoulders down, but all of his little friends know it's him, you know. Because he wears his tube socks really high and there's these chocolate stains on his shirt, and the other kids are saying that they're not chocolate stains. Kids can be so cruel. I hate it." -- Tor Halversom, describing the telltale clues in the Time magazine cover photo

"They say that if he keeps eating the way he does, he's gonna need a pastemaker by the time he's 30. It's so sad." -- Tor Halversom, lamenting Little Mike's dietary demons

"I want you to apologize to me. You hurt my feelings, you stupid dumb ape." -- Little Mike Halversom, firing back at Tom for his faulty umpiring

"That kid had it coming to him. He was like Hitler. I can't help it if I was in the zone." -- Little Mike Halversom, revealing the motivation for his air raid

"There's nothing going on. I mean, it's not like it's our fault that the polling stations got flooded ... with chocolate." -- Tor Halversom, denying that the Halversom Chocolate Company was involved in the election postponement

"I'm gonna do the show from a girder, 81 stories above Jersey City in the middle of the night." -- Tom, pushing all in for Hardhat Radio

Now is the time for us to gather together and celebrate those things that we like and think are fun:

***

[Classic GOMP] - An angry caller informs Tom that Little Steven Van Zandt plays guitar, not bass. Tom insists that the gypsy E-Streeter plays the bass. He tells the caller that he has no idea what he's talking about. The caller believes that Tom is the person who is ill-informed about Van Zandt's instrument of choice. Tom bets the caller $1 million that Little Steven is a bassist. The caller counters with a bet of $5,000 and gives Tom a task: "Look it up, Schmo. Have your little friend Petey go find out!" Tom questions the caller's confidence considering that he lowered the original bet by $995,000. He half GOMPs/half whimpers the caller off the air. [Both combatants were wrong: Mr. Van Zandt is an actore from Home Box Office's The Sopranos. He played the enigmatic character known as "The Russian," who first appeared in the classic Season 3 episode, "In The Pine Barrens (Where Did You Sleep Last Night?)." In the series finale, "The Russian" jumped out of a tree and landed on the greazy head of a suntanning Paulie Trucknutz. He strangled the melanoma'd mobster with a rope of cured meats, mumbled something in his vodka-impaired native tongue, and boarded a NJ Transit bus headed for Parts Unknown, an auto supply depot in Nutley. Van Zandt's post-The Sopranos work has been limited to a guest spot on Criminal Minds, playing Punky Brewster's estranged step-uncle, and a cameo as "Manicott," a ricotta-masked grotesque, on Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!]

***

Tom apologizes to listeners for the end of another scratchy installment of the beloved Antique Phonograph Radio Hour. He is legally obligated to follow the official station schedule, so he must transition into his show. But oh what a show it's gonna be! Tom threatens to venture into ImusLand, but opts to proceed with another Tuuuuuesday night installment of the mirth, music, and mayhem that The Best Show on WFMU is known to deliver. He wonders if it's time to go because he's just not feeling it tonight. Tom instructs Associate Producer Mike to mark down the fastest L in show history. The flashing line scares him. AP Mike says it's their friend. Tom asks him if he's being facetious. We know who it is.

- Spike uncorks some unsettling J. Cagney-by-way-of-M. Dolenz cackling sounds. He's in a giddy mood because he's having a grand old time creating DVDs for a retiring co-worker at his mysterious government job. Tom wonders if the content is similar to the snuff film that jumpstarts the plot of the 1999 Joel Schumacher thriller 8 mm, i.e., the kind of thing you can't unsee. Spike says this mostly musical project lacks the blood and guts that he usually prefers. Tom asks Spike for more details about the entertainment his co-worker will be enjoying during the early days of retirement. Spike says that his friend likes the same kind of music because he's of similar vintage. Tom asks Spike if the guy is also 110 years old. Spike says not quite, but close enough. The elderly co-worker enjoys doo-wop groups, girl groups (L7? Vixen?), British groups, and Motown groups. Tom asks Spike to join him in singing a song. Spike mentions that he tends to sing off-key, but Tom can roll with that flaw. He suggests the seemingly Spike-friendly "Remember (Walking in the Sand)" by The Shangri-Las. Tom volunteers for the backing parts and gives Spike his big break as a lead vocalist. Tom begins the tune, but Spike gets flustered and forgets the words. Tom immediately GOMPs the supposed aficionado for booting the group's biggest hit and ruining the duet. Spike went bust with the world watching.

A boring college professor lectures students during a marathon night session at the Newbridge Community College

Tom reveals that for the last six weeks he's been plagued by the feeling of a peach pit growing in his throat area. He predicts an imminent death that will leave the show in the hands of AP Mike and a new host. (My picks: Keenen Ivory Waylans or Ian Svenonius.) Speaking of death, AP Mike points out that last week Tom mentioned foulmouthed comedian George Carlin, and on June 22nd he passed on, just like poor Kevin Allin did 15 years ago after performing a jazz concert with Woody Allen at the Carlyle Hotel in Manhattan. Tom notes that the miserable Carlin spent his last two Home Box Office stand-up specials (2005's Life Is Worth Losing and this past March's It's Bad for Ya) moaning about how much he hated humanity. He bids the unfunny funnyman good riddance. Tom urges people who think that sendoff is too harsh to consider that the material in Carlin's last special was 10 times as harsh as his curt eulogy. He hopes that Carlin is happy to get what he always wanted: No life.

Tom actually likes being here, and he doesn't want to drop dead from stone fruit asphyxiation or some related gastric event. He desires a world filled with positive people who want to keep living even as their bodies are failing them. He denounces Carlin's diseased worldview and welcomes the extra room for somebody who wants to stay. Tom suspects that Carlin wishes he had his life back now. The bottom line: Appreciate The Gift. Tom is reluctantly downing a Diet Pepsi to give him a little pep for the next three hours. He wonders if anyone can tell that he has not had caffeine in four days. AP Mike says the lethargy comes across a little bit. Tom plans to continue to regulate his intake of the stimulant to help soothe the stomach ailment that is slowly, Timmy von Trimbleingly killing him from the inside. He is alarmed that he just heard AP Mike screen a caller with the phrase, "I can barely understand you." He anticipates a great call.

- Craig the Giants lover/Brooklyn Dodgers fan who used to live in Cobble Hill calls to say he doesn't like the New York Jets. He then issues a bizarre rant in which he attempts to argue the following four points:

1. You can't be everything to all of the people some of the time, but not all of the time.
2. You can't be all of the people all of the time either.
3. You can't identify yourself anyway because you're not amusing.
4. You're insignificant because you listen to Sonic Youth.

It's not clear if the "you" refers to Tom some of the time or all of the time. Craig's lack of lucidity and frantic speech indicates potential substance abuse issues. It's likely that Tom is simply a convenient conduit for a tirade against the uncaring world at large, or, at the very least, Thurston Moore. Perhaps Craig was on the receiving end of an overly abrasive and atonal mixCASSette curated by the lanky axeman. Tom asks Craig if he's done. Craig says he's not done because he's talking about reality, man. He wants Tom to buy some gum, chew it, and throw it in the park to allow bums to find it and resell it. Tom has no time for this brand of street wisdom from a pre-fabricated character.

- Paul from Boredom Hill tells Tom that Diet Pepsi might not be the best plan for caffeine reduction. Tom agrees, but he didn't want to fall asleep on the air. Paul refers to Tom as a "health nut" and GOMPs him. Bold move, son. Tom tells him to take a walk around the park. He wonders if Paul thought he was talking to Gary Null, host of the syndicated Natural Living with Gary Null radio show and well-known zealot of natural and alternative remedies.

Tom asks AP Mike to search the WFMU library under the heading Davis, Miles and retrieve a double disc called Pangaea. He quickly changes his mind and decides to strap the program to his back and earn a W. Tom is momentarily relieved that there's only 25 minutes left before realizing that he's only done 25 minutes of the program. He tries to figure out why he's even here. Tom considers the lure of a giant paycheck, but he remembers that he's an unpaid volunteer. Tom appreciates all the great wisdom coming from the early Brooklyn callers. He thinks it's time to spray the area with an antidepressant mist to calm down its residents. He envisions a low-flying crop-duster spraying Paxil over McCarren Park to mellow those kooks out. Tom also considers walling in the borough like something out of John Carpenter's Escape from New York. He continues to take sips of Diet Pepsi to boost his energy so he can Bring It. The resulting conundrum: You could say that this show is killing him.

- Adam from Toledo, Ohio, asks Tom if he's aware of the recent Shaquille O'Neal incident. Tom did hear about an impromptu Shaq rap, but he hasn't watched the clip. The aging center took the microphone at a party and made fun of former Lakers teammate Kobe Bryant's apparent inability to win the NBA title without his presence in the middle. (The Shaqless Lakers had just lost to the Celtics in six games.) Shaq then lapsed into toiletmouth with a request for Kobe to "tell me how my ass tastes." Tom doesn't approve of the explicit content. Adam says he was unaware that the usually fun-loving Shaq had such a nasty side. Tom thinks that Shaq needs to calm down a bit (some of that Brooklyn mist might do the trick). He thought he was a classier act who did not deliver low blows to his fellow players. Adam doesn't recall seeing Shaq in the NBA Finals this year. Tom recalls that his Phoenix Suns flamed out in the first round, losing to the San Antonio Spurs in five games. When it comes to smooth flow, Mr. O'Neal could learn a thing or two from the likes of MC Steinberg and MC Teddy T, and even MC John JUNK!

- Evan from balmy West Philadelphia calls to get some additional details on Tom's stomach ailment. Tom repeats that it feels like a peach pit is lodged in his throat. Evan asks him if a doctor diagnosed it as something fancy. Tom says he has Rolls-Royce Disease, the result of the excessive pate consumption that characterizes his lush living. Evan asks Tom if he is completely off caffeine due to RRD. Tom says he's trying to take action to avoid irritating his stomach. Evan announces that he's a big tea drinker. Tom finds this interesting and asks Evan to name his favorite tea brand/varietal. He suspects it might be Sleepytime, the herbal elixir from Celestial Seasonings®. Evan says it is not Sleepytime. Tom is shocked considering the drowsy nature of this call. Evan says he's a tea purist, suggesting an affinity for the standard range of black teas. He thought tea might be easier on Tom's stomach compared to coffee or cola beverages. Tom says he might have to try this drink and asks Evan to spell it for him. Evan says it's known as Camellia sinensis. Tom asks him if that is scientific nomenclature for weed. It's not. Tom wonders if there is anything lower than an L because the show is actually getting worse.

- Julie from Cincinnati is doing super and thinks tonight's show is really awesome. She tells Tom that it's possible to grow little stones on the tonsils, although he could really be growing a peach pit. She asks him if he's gone to a "face doctor" (hard to decipher this through the slurred speech; might have been the even more bizarre "space doctor"). Tom's got nothing tonight. He can't entertain this. He made the mistake of talking about himself. AP Mike says the next call will turn the tide.

- A caller says that Tom just needs to chill out with his bud from way back, maaaaaaaan. Tom is pretty sure it's Bryce, and it absolutely is. Bryce is doing pretty good, and he wants to make his bud do better, too. He suspects that Tom has "the polyps" on his throat. Tom believes it's actually the fallout from an acid-reflux incident. Bryce recommends soothing the acid-reflex with what he does. He appears to take a massive bong hit that sounds like a cross between the slurping of that air tube the dental hygienist uses to suck moisture out of your mouth during a cleaning and radio static.

Bryce says he was demonstrating Dust-Off®, the stuff you shoot inside your keyboard to get the dust off. Tom thinks this tuff huffing is a horrible suggestion. Bryce believes that this product will probably get rid of that stuff on Tom's polyps. Tom remains reluctant to put a canister of Dust-Off® in his mouth. Bryce advises Tom to slowly ingest the pressurized air like he just did. Tom rules against the medicinal use of a computer accessory to treat his illness. Bryce says he just wants Tom to feel good again. He proposes an alternative balm that usually works for him: Road Trips Volume 1, Number 3: Summer 1971, a two-disc set of highlights from Grateful Dead shows in New Haven, Chicago, Hollywood, and San Pedro. He points out that these compilations are driving the Deadheads mad because they crave whole shows. However, Bryce says that they will have to make do with this series because Bobby Weir and the boys know what's good for them. Tom doesn't think that the Grateful Dead has ever taken advantage of their fans with any of their merchandising efforts. Bryce agrees that the boys have NEVER done this.

He wants to request a song that is apropos to Tom's earlier discussion of George Carlin's death: "The Night They Drove Old Dick C. Down" by The Band. Tom says he probably won't play it. Bryce recalls that Carlin was a frequent guest on The Dick Cavett Show back then. Tom isn't sure how this ties into the song. Bryce repeats the title and notes that the "Dick C." is Cavett. Tom informs him that it's actually "Dixie," a reference to the American south during Civil War times. Bryce says the song's narrative involves the night that Levon Helmet drove Cavett from Woodstock to Manhattan. Tom is not familiar with Levon Helmet. Bryce can't believe that someone with a radio show has not heard of the drummer from The Band. Tom says the drummer/Cavett chauffeur in question is Levon Helm. Bryce doesn't believe it, and he insists that "Dick C" is correct.

Bryce shifts the conversation to more important matters. He announces that he's officially taking the Dr. Seuss hat that he threw into the ring for the Newbridge Mayuuuuuubinatoritotorial race and putting it back in his baggy pocket. Tom asks him why he's dropping out of the race. Bryce prefers not to say anything other than he just doesn't want to do it. Tom thinks it's a weird decision because Bryce seemed so into running. In fact, Bryce previously spoke of his hunger and drive for political office on behalf of his Party Party ticket. He promised that, if elected, Newbridge residents, including children, would receive their own "little friend" (i.e., bong) to open their minds and help them relax. Bryce confirms that he was into his campaign ... until recently. Tom asks him if something triggered his retreat to the woods. Bryce says definitely not, but Tom think he sounds a bit sketchy and nervous. Bryce says he's not doing any drawings right now, but he's doodled in the past. His best sketch is of "The Phil Zone," which is whatever you want it to be, but in his interpretation it's Phil Lesh's POV (aka point of view; Bryce is surprised Tom knows this industry term) playing a solo with his head-stockless bass and looking out into an ocean of faces. All the faces are Bryce. Bryce thinks it's beautiful. Tom finds it creepy. Bryce disagrees with this finding.

Bryce sings an apropos verse from a revised version of his desired The Band tune: "The night they drove Old Dick C. down/And I dropped out of the race." Tom still isn't clear why Bryce is dropping out. Bryce doesn't want to discuss it. He says he has to go because his lean-to is blowing over. Tom expresses his regret that Bryce won't be running for mayor. Bryce departs with an "L Days." Tom does take some solace in not receiving a death threat. He wants to live, not croak. Tom blames his lack of sleep on his tummy trouble. He reconsiders putting on Pangaea and splitting.

- Paul, the Pride of Staten Island, says he doesn't like to call pre-topic, but he's hoping to chime in on last week's "The Best Show's The Order of Everything List," where the Brooklyn Vegan weblog commenters were banished to the basement. Tom asks Paul if he thinks he has the clout required to revisit an old topic. Paul says that he's asking for permission to proceed into the past. Tom gives him the go-ahead.

Paul says that a few weeks ago the promoter for the "Rock The Harbor" Staten Island music festival submitted a press release to BV to announce the event. Tom asks Paul if the festival was promoted by the Mafia or the proprietors of the Lemon Tree. Paul says that organized criminals and the chain of family-friendly hair salons were not involved with this show. Tom remembers that during a previous call Paul, somewhat surprisingly, named the Cajun-centric Bayou on Bay Street as one of his favorite local eateries. Paul points out that he can have fantastic Italian food from countless restaurants delivered to his home, so when he ventures out he likes to sample more adventurous cuisine from other regions and cultures. Tom concedes that Paul just put him in his place. Tom wonders if he's ever tried Pasticceria Bruno on Hylan Boulevard. Paul has never tried their gelato. Tom informs him that he will need to find a replacement for the departed Sedutto's.

Paul says the festival bill was all Staten Island bands (e.g., Wahoo Skiffle Crazies, Kilgore Trout Is Dead, I Love You The Ghost of Vito Bratta), and the BV commenters immediately started dumping on his borough with snarky queries (e.g., who lives there, what is this place, what comes from there, why would anyone want to live there) and Spike-like attempts to dismiss it as not a legitimate part of NYC. Tom suspects that these goons are transplants who think they are experts after living in the city for 2.5 years. Paul asks Tom to reopen the list and put Staten Island anywhere above BV commenters. Tom is perplexed by the insane premise that Staten Island could possibly be worse than BV commenters. Paul says that some people in the listening audience might not have sufficient respect for Staten Island. He spotted a BV comment that said "See youz [sic] at Sedutto's," a PBRism suggesting a Best Show influence. Tom says that if it will make Paul happy, he will put Staten Island on the list above The Perfect Waffle (and below Bill Belichick's Post-Super Bowl Press Conference). Paul assumed it would rank around 60-minute episode of Columbo, so he's glad it's a few slots higher than that.

Tom asks Paul for something in return: Get him back on The List. He is certain that Paul knows what he's talking about. Tom says he goes right to the good stuff, which is always just below the line and to the far right. Lowbrow and brilliant. The ideal quadrant. Paul reveals that he is no longer associated with New York magazine and its Approval Matrix feature. Tom accidentally calls AP Mike "Monk," the titular, OCD police consultant on the long-running USA Network series, further evidence that he needs to leave the studio ASAP. Paul decides to let the embattled host attend to more pressing matters. Tom asks AP Mike to scan the sound effects CDs to secure a steam whistle. He wants to return to his roots of Hardhat Radio.

- A caller says that George Carlin is funnier dead than any of Tom's buddies are alive. Tom thinks Carlin is indeed funny as a dead person. The caller reiterates that a dead Carlin saying nothing is funnier than any living comedians Tom promotes on the show. Tom suggests that the caller go check out one of Carlin's upcoming concerts. He cuts the caller off before he can finish his retort. Tom wins. He says that the extremely overrated Carlin stunk then and stinks now. Tom scolds the miserable crab for constantly moaning on stage about how the human race is doomed, yet considering it morally objectionable to vote to try to change the status quo. Tom believes that all you need to know about George Carlin is that potato-nosed raconteur Bill Maher said he was his hero. Tom makes it clear that anyone who passes on has his utmost sympathy, but he prefers people who enjoy breathing the air with their feet on the ground. He says that if Maher laughed at anything from the last Carlin special, he's proven that his opinion of comedy is worthless.

- A caller* barges in with "Duuuuhhhhh, that last guy was right!," referring to the claim that a deceased Carlin is funnier than anything Tom is doing. Tom asks the caller if he likes Carlin. He responds in the affirmative: "Duhhhh, yeahhhh!" The caller says he just wanted to support the previous caller's sentiment. Tom assumes that the pro-Carlin brigade will be coming out in full force to defend their fallen sage. He laments the horrible fate of the life-loving Meet The Press host Tim Russert, who collapsed on June 13th while recording voiceovers and died of heart rupture. Unlike Russert, Carlin couldn't wait to get off the grid. He got what he wanted.

*Petey!

- MC Steinberg checks in while chasing fireflies outside of some building. He tells Tom that he's close to catching one. Tom wants to know what's new in the MCS world beyond bioluminescent beetles. MCS explains that his hiatus from the show coincides with a rough few months in his life. While things were seemingly great with a decent entry-level job (allowing him to vacate his post at the Dollar Store), a girlfriend, car, and proper sleeping (insomnia has often plagued this MC), he lost everything because he was getting too cocky. MCS says he realized that happiness is not the best situation for making meaningful music. Tom thought it was harder to create music when the artist is sad.

MCS says he became too focused on making money instead of rhymes. The stifling bliss even included good relations with his mom, who was also happy. MCS concludes that he needs conflict to get the creative juices flowing. Tom understands how the push and pull of an existential tug-of-war can lead to more interesting output. MCS assures listeners that he has some Z-100 Top 4 hits in the works. Tom wants to hear a sample, but MCS says it's too early. He will not unveil the songs until they are done. MCS points out that unlike Ted Leo, he cannot write a complete song in one night. He cackles with delight after finally catching the firefly he was running after the whole time. MCS reports that it flew right into his face for the taking.

He says that he just wanted to call to let everyone know that he's not dead. Tom looks forward to the debut of the new MCS raps. MCS says he heard Tom mention that his stomach problems may be due to a lack of sleep. He recommends that Tom not sleep for another few weeks so his body gets used to the deprivation. Tom thinks that sounds like terrible advice. MCS says "to each his own" and "Tom rules!" He mentions posting a video on the FOT Board, gets flustered, perhaps by some sort of vigilante firefly swarm, and hangs up.

Tom tests out a potential sound effect, but nixes the bellow of a foghorn because he's not Captain Merrill Stubing from The Love Boat. AP Mike suggests Track 81, "Steel Mill Factory Alarm." Tom wants The Best Show to appeal to the working guys who eat their lunches out on the girders. He declines the alarm because it sounds too much like a weird conveyor death-belt from a Trent L. Strauss production. (Not surprisingly, AP Mike is intrigued by "Old Fashioned Toilet Flush.") Tom wants someone to send him a good steam whistle .mp3 so he can go all in on Slob Radio. AP Mike strikes out again with "Garbage Truck in Alley." He points out that the garbagemen are working hard. Tom acknowledges that plenty of people are working hard, but he's looking for the perfect soundtrack for his populist program. He describes his ideal effect: The ticking of a clock as it approaches 5 p.m., followed by a steam whistle toot, then the kicking in of the opening riff of George Thorogood & the Destroyers's "Bad to the Bone," which plays out with the intercutting of the steam whistling. Tom recently saw the "Bad to the Bone" video with Mr. Thorogood, then age 32, running down the street with nine-year-olds. AP Mike suspects he was tired of being hounded by old blues fans.

- Rachel from Kansas City requests "Jungleland," the epic closer from Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band's Born to Run. Tom agrees to queue it up for her. Rachel says she really wants to hear that sax solo. Since Rachel is not familiar with the concept of talking up a record, Tom asks her if she prefers to send the song out to anyone. Rachel declines the invitation to a dedication because her primary interest is getting an unadulterated fix of that sax solo. Tom proposes some patter: "Hey, this is Rachel in Kansas City. WFMU. From Born to Run, it's 'Jungleland!'" He tells Rachel to start as he gets the song ready for airplay. She delivers the introduction, and Tom plays Neil Diamond's "Porcupine Pie." Despite this mishap, he says The Big Man's (RIP) sax solo sounded as sweet as ever.

Tom was recently watching the rock n' roll music documentary, Busted Circuits & Ringing Ears, about the late-1980s/early-1990s Seattle band Tad, fronted by plus-sized grunge pioneer Tad Doyle. He enjoyed the fun-ish film and appreciated the opportunity to go behind the scenes of the whole Tad experience. Tom salutes the filmmakers for lifting the veil and solving some of the mysteries that surrounded the band for the last 20 years. However, he noticed that the film fell victim to the tendency of many music documentaries to overhype the band that it's about. Tom recalls one interview subject talking about the band's music as though Mr. Doyle was crafting songs on par with The Beatles. Tom was there. He bought all those Tad records. He was on board. The bottom line: Not so good.

The crème della résistance was a guy who praised the melodies and the textures of Tad's songs. Tom could handle that, but he calls shenanigans on the claim that Doyle was a classicly trained drummer. Tom doubts that Doyle could have ever landed a spot in the Seattle Philharmonic Orchestra. He sees this as an example of someone overstating something to the point of lying. Behold the topic: You're Lying. Tom wants to hear about some spiels that were full of fibs.

- Matt K from pleasant Montclair, NJ, asks Tom if he's ever noticed how much Bryce sounds like Towelie, Tynacorp's talking RG-400 Smart Towel, from the animated series South Park. Tom hears the beeps of commerce and asks Matt K what convenience store employs him. Matt says he's at the ATM. Tom asks him how much he's withdrawing from his account. Matt says he opted for a "quick 40" to get some Chinese (food, presumably, but one never knows now does one). Tom has not previously noticed the vocal similarities, but he thinks Matt may be right. He will investigate to see if Bryce and Towelie are the same entity. Matt warns Tom that he will probably call back if he comes up with something relevant to the topic. Tom looks forward to it.

- A caller expresses his dislike for liars because they are like poisonous snakes. Tom is with him on that, man. The caller says he's about to return home after working since 3 p.m. Tom tells him to have a good night, man. He commends the caller for taking a strong stand against liars because a lot of people like liars. Prediction: the cracking of a cold beer and a screening of The Bucket List is in the caller's future. Tom wonders if he's getting back what he's giving off: agony and suffering. He keeps fighting because he wants to be here, although not necessarily the "here-here" of the WFMU studio on 24 June 2008.

Tom recently spotted the "Caution: Show Dogs" notice on the back of a truck, and he found it offensive for a variety of reasons. Tom rejects the notion that the smashing of a vehicle transporting fancy-schmancy show dogs is more of a tragedy than a similar accident involving lowly pound mutts. He also points out that the typical American roadways are not subjected to the post-apocalyptic mayhem of The Road Warrior or the high-speed, wrong-way bumper cars of Ronin. Tom thinks "Caution: Car" would suffice because he doesn't want to hit any vehicle regardless of what it might have stowed inside. He wonders who guns it and then eases up on the gas pedal when they see the "Show Dogs" decal in front of them.

Spent the rest on candy: A young Horse shows off his newly sprouted six-pack

- A caller growls as though he's in the midst of strenuous exercise and announces that he also hates liars. Tom asks him, "Are you all right, buddy?" The caller says he's not Tom's buddy. It's HORSE! From Jock Squad. He hates when people lie about the number of reps they can do. Horse strains to complete his 9,378th rep and yells at Grunt and Tank to do a better job of spotting him. Since he heard about Tom's tummy trouble, he asks him how many crunches he's been doing. Tom says he's not doing any because he's busy hosting a radio show. Horse asks him about his normal crunch regimen. Tom admits that he's not much of a crunches guy. Horse yells "WHY?!" and pulls an abdominal muscle. He asks Tank to rub his tum-tum to soothe the pain. After the initial contact, Horse directs his colleague to move a little lower on his torso. Tom emits a noise indicating displeasure at where this physical therapy session is headed. Horse tells him to shut up. Tom asks Horse what he can do for him this evening.

Horse says he needs to reach into that ring, grab his weight belt, and withdraw from the Mayubernatorial race. Horse was running on the Repspublican Party ticket with an ambitious, three-pronged platform that guaranteed the following: Newbridge would attack at least three surrounding towns with "guns and stuff" (enslaving the conquered enemies in military zones); all Newbridge schoolchildren would get at least 40 hours of gym class per week; and Tom's execution. The now-spared (by one candidate, at least) Tom wants to know why the bodybuilding fiend is abandoning his supporters this late in the game. Horse says he just doesn't want to do it because he has other stuff going on. Tom tells Horse that he's the second person to drop out tonight. Horse says that dropping out doesn't make him any less of a man. He wants Tom to say it. Tom confirms that it has no bearing on his manhood. He agrees that Horse is fine. Horse sarcastically thanks Tom for the compliment and informs Grunt and Tank (still a Mayubernatorial candidate for the Democalve Party) that "Little Tina" on the high school radio station says he's fine. Tom points out that Horse apparently can't stop calling the station he openly mocks. Horse says he only calls when it's important. He's just not feeling a political campaign right now.

Tom asks him if something is up. Horse says the only thing that is up is the amount of weight he can lift. Tom says it seems like it's a weird coincidence that Horse and Bryce dropped out within an hour of each other with only vague excuses. Horse believes that Bryce deserves to drop out. He claims to have other reasons for his decision, but he doesn't mention any of them. Tom plans to find out what is really going on. Meanwhile, Horse will finish 9,700 reps before his 10 p.m. deadline. He warns Tom that he will smash him with the same force he applied back in 2005 to his ailing computer. Tom wishes him good luck. Horse says he doesn't need luck. He challenges Tom to a fight because he doesn't like being judged for dropping out of the race. Tom denies judging him. Horse hangs up.

- Liz from Chicago calls to contribute to the topic. Tom wonders if last week's call got her in trouble. Liz says she's trying to keep a low profile because when she arrived at the office the next morning, one of her co-workers jokingly asked her if she had been fired. Tom apologizes for causing any workplace tension. However, he still wants Liz to get him a job hosting the game show, Hey ... What's Going On?. Liz reminds Tom not to mention any specific programs. Tom can't help himself.

Liz says that intense Husker Dude fandom recently sent her friend and his wife on a journey to Bay City, WI, to dine at Norton's, the restaurant owned and operated by Greg Norton and his wife, Sarah. Norton was working that night, and her friend was very excited by his presence. He raved and gushed about how Norton was a big hero and inspiration to him. Norton asked him if he ever got a chance to see the band perform live. Liz says that her friend had not in fact seen Husker Dude, but he decided to tell Norton that he had. Norton inquired about the specific show, and her friend claimed it was a 1991 gig in Chicago. Oops. Norton delivered the bad news: The band dissolved in 1987. Tom laments this embarrassing lie from a hotshot who ended up looking like a fool. He finds it hard to believe that a Huskers fan could not have picked an earlier year in which the band was actually active. Liz suspects that he was rattled by nerves when confronted with his musical hero. Tom questions how heroic Norton was to him since he had no idea when his band broke up. Liz reports that the couple did enjoy the excellent Norton's food. Tom asks Liz if her friend ordered the "Could You Be The One" burger. Liz plates "The Celebrated Waffle," and Tom keeps it going with an order of "Flexible French Fries." He decides not to do this anymore, but not before dishing up "New Egg Rising." Tom giggles at his funny wordplay.

- Kelly from Newark (aka Brick City) offers a topic entry that involves The Pipeline, a local club that hosted a lot of famous bands before they broke big. She has a friend who tried to convince her that in 1991, when she was 13 and he was 11, he went to see Nine Inch Nails at The Pipeline. Kelly says that he insisted that he was one of the 30 people in the crowd that night. She points out that if all the people she's met who claimed to see NIN at The Pipeline were actually in attendance, the venue would have had the capacity of Madison Square Garden. Kelly wants people to stop refusing to admit that they were too busy enjoying 4th or 6th grade to venture inside Mr. Reznor's pretty hate machine. Tom declares her friend to be a liar. Kelly says he's more of an acquaintance. Tom declares her acquaintance to be a liar! NOTE: My research indicates that NIN played The Pipeline on 12/9/89 and 7/18/90, not anytime in 1991. So many terrible lies in this tale.

- Trembling Eagle, the loudmouth with the snooty hip-hop opinions on the FOT Board, calls to take his act to a bigger stage. TE acknowledges that he comes off a bit harshly at times, but he doesn't mean to stir up any hate. Tom tells TE that if he's going to post, he needs to take advantage of all that free punctuation. He informs TE that those keys do not cost 20 cents/use. Tom suggests he might not come off as arrogant if he cleans up his ragged prose. However, he knocks TE for failing to comprehend that Lil' Wayne is actually a quality rapper who dilutes his oeuvre by putting out way too much material. This is a foreign concept to a Trembling Eagle. TE argues that LW is simply not a quality MC. Tom believes that LW just needs to reign in his insanity. He apologizes to TE on behalf of LW for not being as good as Wyclef Jean. Tom sampled a WJ clip that TE posted, and it was the worst song he ever heard in his life. TE thinks Tom and others are lying about liking rap to come off as hip music fans. He finds no discernible talent in LW's work. Tom says that TE is forgetting to insert the words "I think ..." before he states his opinion. He wonders if TE foncies himself as some kind of all-knowing Rap Wizard.

Tom says that TE doesn't know much if he's pushing the Wyclef song as anything other than an effective torture technique. TE admits that he's not a huge Wyclef fan in general. Tom says that if TE heard the LW mixtapes he could not deny his talent -- or his lack of focus. TE wants to know where the talent is in rhyming "school" with "school." Tom sees little value in picking apart hip-hop lyrics line by line. He points out that LW is Doing It freestyle for minutes at a time. Slack should be cut for this kind of off-the-dome science drop. Tom diagnoses TE's main problem as closing the door on the idea that popular hip-hop is legit hip-hop. He GOMPs TE and ends the overly insular conversation. Tom bans the Wyclef enthusiast from calling the show for 18 months and revokes his FOT Board posting privileges for six months.

- Chris from musicsnobbery.com/Montclair knows that Tom hates this guy even more than he does. He saw him this past Saturday at the Popped! Music Festival in Philadelphia. Tom has no idea who he's talking about. It's electro-popper Dan Deacon. Tom explains that Deacon's music is not his cup of Camellia sinensis, but he doesn't hate the man. Chris accuses Deacon of lying about having a masters degree in composition from the Conservatory of Music at SUNY-Purchase. He believes that the simplicity of his musical output betrays this level of training. Tom argues that Deacon is not obligated to overcompose just because of his educational background. He GOMPs Chris. Biggest L in years.

- Recent high school graduate Bonnie from GA swoops in and makes Tom cry. He begs her to fix the show. Bonnie apologizes for bringing Tom to tears, but he explains that the last 85 minutes are responsible for the emotional outburst. Bonnie says that her job at an overnight summer camp prohibits her from listening to The Best Show, but this week she can use her cell phone because she's on kitchen duty. She regrets that she has nothing to talk about.

Tom asks her if she's keeping the kids in line. Bonnie says that she can be stern when the situation requires disciplinary action. While serving as a pool watcher, one of the girls approached her roommate, Rachel, and put her fist in front of her face. Bonnie says the girl held it there in a way that was more weird than threatening. Rachel asked the girl to explain herself. The girl said, "My knuckles are staring at you," and then dove into the water to resume swimming. Tom wonders if all the kids are similarly weird. Bonnie estimates that there are about five weirdos out of 150 campers that arrive each week. Tom asks Bonnie if she ever deprives the kids of food as punishment for misbehavior. Bonnie says she only deprives them of pool time. Tom inquires about whether Bonnie uses her authority to go through the kids' stuff during nap time. Bonnie says she employs self-control to avoid abusing her position. Tom admits that he would go through their stuff. Bonnie mentions that another caller once admitted to stealing snacks when he worked at a camp. She says that since the camp bans food in the cabins, the staff occasionally has to confiscate cookies that the kids bring with them. Bonnie says they resist the temptation to consume the contraband. Tom asks Bonnie if it's like the movie Heavyweights with kids hiding stuff under the floor boards. Bonnie says the cabins have cement floors that would require a jackhammering to create a viable hiding space.

Tom says that when AP Mike left the room he examined the contents of his briefcase. He discovered the planning documents for a summer camp that AP Mike will organize with Spike's help. Bonnie says she will have horrifying nightmares as a result of this information. Tom tells Bonnie to let him know what she finds when she goes through the kids' stuff during her final weeks at the camp. He recommends wearing a white sheet so she can claim to be The Ghost of the Camp if any kids catch her in mid-rummage. Bonnie thinks she could easily trick the gullible third-graders with that basic costume. Tom assumes that Bonnie will be rich from her earnings. Bonnie says she could delude herself into thinking that she will be rich. Tom bids Bonnie good night and looks forward to her return to live listening in a month. This call is how it's done. The flow of L has been staunched.

- Spike calls to discuss the revelation of the summer camp he's starting with AP Mike. He says that he was unaware of this project because he can't handle the sight of little brats under the age of 25. Tom tells Spike not to drag him into this mess. He makes it clear that this is between Spike and AP Mike. Spike argues that Tom is one who brought him into this. Tom says he's only repeating the information on the documents he found in AP Mike's briefcase. Spike doesn't want Tom to scare him like this. Tom realizes that Spike is playing hardball with AP Mike because they are still working out how to slice up the money pie. Spike says he doesn't want anything to do with the camp.

Tom asks Spike if he would consider participating if it was billed as Mike & Spike's Doo-Wop Horror Camp. Spike says that he would still want no part of it if children under the age of 25 are present. Tom says that AP Mike has Spike's name and likeness on the marketing materials, including an awning with both of their heads on it. Spike is clearly distraught over AP Mike's aggressive branding initiative. Tom asks Spike if he would at least be willing to swing by the camp if there was a doo-wop extravagonza on the entertainment schedule. Spike refuses to budge: If there are children there, he will not go. The prospect of turning a new generation onto his favorite music does not interest him. Tom makes a final attempt to sway Spike with a Doo-Wop Weekend hosted by Robert Englund in full Freddy Krueger makeup. Spike says he might go if Englund promised to hack, slice, and dice the little brats. Tom relays the message to AP Mike, who assures him that Spike is in for a penny, in for a pound on this deal. Spike is not pleased about having to suffer with a bunch of brats. Tom reminds Spike to deal exclusively with AP Mike on these matters. He bids Spike good night.

- Mike D from Beastie Boys in Brooklyn points out that this was the latest Spike has ever called the show. Tom agrees that it was past his bedtime. He admires the rugged quality of Mike D's stentorian voice. Mike D recalls that Tom called him Sam Elliot during a previous show. He says the voice befits his overall image.

During a recent visit to the healthy, grab-and-go eatery Energy Kitchen, Mike D surveyed the autographed "celebrity" photos on the wall. One of them was the crettenous WFAN sportscaster Sid "Arthur" Rosenberg, who has been reprimanded and/or thrown off the air for a variety of offenses, ranging from crude remarks about the Williams sisters and the U.S. women's soccer team to wishes for a genocidal bombing of all Palestinians at the 2004 funeral of Yasser Arafat. Tom reports that he's now back on the air at WAXY-790 in South Florida. Mike believes that Rosenberg, an admitted rail captain with multiple rehab stints, inscribed his photo with a lie for all to see: "Pump it up! Cheers to livin' healthy. Keep it going!"

- A caller says that he hates when people lie about how many lovers they've taken over the years. Tom moans because he thinks he knows who it is. He believes it's Mr. Gene Simmons, and it absolutely is the God of Thunder. Tom thanks him for listening to the show. Gene says he just tuned in for a second in between "things." Tom is not pleased to hear that the Kiss bassist is in the throes of lovemaking. Gene tells Tom not to judge him because he judges Tom. Tom tells Gene not to judge him for supposedly judging him. Gene says he never lies about how many lovers he's taken. He claims not to have counted them, but he puts the figure at upwards of 4,731. Tom expresses his disgust at this overstuffed resume. Gene believes it is a declaration of his love. He took a break from his current session to make an announcement on Tom's show.

Gene informs listeners that he's taking his gold-plated codpiece back to his mansion and dropping out of the Mayubernatorial race. He was running on the Fontasy Party ticket, which focused on courting the female demographic. The Party's primary platform plank was turning every Newbridge resident's fontasy into reality. Gene planned to appease the cuckolded husbands of the women he planned to bed by offering them a $50 voucher for Gene Simmons Toyota. He also promised to improve the educational system by giving every schoolchild a copy of his forthcoming book, I'm Rich, a fun, thought-provoking how-to that shows children that they can become the super-rich object desire of every woman on Earth if they set their minds to it. Gene's long-range goal was to convert Newbridge into a sprawling sex theme park called "Gene Simmons's Sexerica."

Tom wants to know why Gene is giving up his quest to turn the town into an erotic wonderland. Gene explains that he has too many other projects that demand his time, especially Dr. Love: The Musical, featuring songs from the Kiss catalog, some new solo compositions, and the song he co-wrote with Bob Dylan. Tom asks him if it's the same track from his 2004 album, ***hole. He thinks it's called "Waiting for the Night to Fall." Gene speculates that it's "Waiting for the Sun," but he realizes that's the third album by The Doors. Tom can't believe he is unable to recall the title. Gene reminds him that he's written so many songs it's not even funny. Tom asks him how many songs he's written with Dylan. Gene says it was only that one. Tom confirms that Dylan just strums chords and did not pen any lyrics. Gene reveals that he barely wrote the chords. He says that Dylan's main contribution was just showing up in the room that day to provide the right vibe for him to complete the song. Gene gave Dylan half credit for that. Tom thinks Gene's assessment of Dylan's role sounds a bit unfair. Gene disagrees. Tom later reports that the collaboration is called "Waiting for the Morning Light."

Gene says he's also launching the She's So European®, clothesline, which is named after the song from Unmasked. Tom knows the tune, and Gene gives him a taste of the chorus. He touts SSE as the world's first upscale clothesline. Gene clarifies that he's selling the line you hang your clothes on to dry, not a line of designer clothing. Tom thinks this is an insane product. Gene assures him that his clothesline is black and purple and shiny. Tom wants to know how much it costs. Gene says it will retail for $492. Tom chuckles at this price tag. He asks Gene to reveal the manufacturing cost just between the two of them. Gene says it costs two cents to produce one SSE clothesline. The master of merch cites the large profit margin as another example of America's greatness. Tom asks him how many he has sold so far. Gene says it hasn't hit stores yet, but the pre-orders have been great. He has sold six clotheslines. Tom asks him if the customers are people he knows or other members of Kiss. Gene says he's making drummer Eric Singer buy one and making lead guitarist Bruce Kulick buy several. Tom suspects that might account for all six orders. Gene says it might, but it might not because maybe Paul Stanley bought one. (He didn't.) Tom gets Gene to admit that nobody outside the immediate Kiss family has pre-ordered the item. However, Gene is confident that sales will skyrocket once he devotes his full attention to the marketing campaign instead of the Newbridge race.

Tom asks Gene if there is another reason for dropping out of the campaign. Gene wonders why Tom would think there is more to the story. Tom informs Gene that Horse and Bryce also dropped out tonight. Gene says that he's still definitely out despite the depleted field. He disputes the suggestion that there is any connection between his exit and the other withdrawals. Tom senses that Gene is nervous. Gene denies it while sounding extremely nervous. Tom wishes Mr. Simmons a good night.

- Norm from Montague says he tells everybody that he's in a rock band, but he's kinda not in a rock band. Tom asks Norm who he's told that he's in a rock band. Norm says he's told all of his friends and relatives. He sets up a drum kit and PA system in the basement to make it look like a legitimate practice space. When people come over, Norm directs them to the staged scene. Tom's heard enough of this ruse.

- Michael from Long Branch, a member of video game clan The Couchbreakers, calls to discuss inducting Tom as an honorary member. He called a while ago and was inspired by Tom's suggestion to name their clan The Couchbreakers because they are overweight and would break a couch while playing video games for hours on end. Michael says they've battled some other clans in an effort to climb the ranks. The Couchbreakers plan to enter and win some big tournaments for Call of Duty 4: Modern Warfare, aka the only game you need. Michael says Frank from Weehawken, the clan's best player, took him under his wing. Tom wants to know how he can help The Couchbreakers with their gaming career. Michael says he just wanted to call in. He heard the topic and thought he had something to share about lying. Tom has no time for this stuff. Exhibit A: Norm's limp skit about a fake rock band with some weird payoff that he'll play back for the cardboard cutouts in his basement -- if he even has an Internet signal down there. Exhibit B: A Couchbreaker belaboring a point that wasn't that interesting when he talked about it three weeks ago.

- Dania from Chicago says that for the past six weeks she's worked in a garden center that gives in to even the most absurd customer demands. She finds this approach annoying because she often wants to deny their requests. Dania says a lady recently came in with a dead hanging flower basket. She claimed that she properly watered it, but its crusty texture suggested otherwise. Dania said it would have crumbled to the touch. It had ceased to be. She suspects that the lady watered the plant twice at most. Dania informed her that the plant requires daily waterings. The lady insisted that she adhered to that schedule and wanted a new one free of charge. Dania repeated the tall tale to her manager, who gave the liar a new plant so she would walk away happy. Dania says she wanted to revive the old one, but it ended up getting thrown in the garbage. She was frustrated for 10 minutes and then let it go.

- Emma from Toronto pleases Tom by being a.) Emma from Toronto and b.) another lady caller. She says she was so happy to hear from Bonnie. Tom wants to keep it going because the dudes are a snooze tonight. Like Bonnie, Emma is completely finished with high school, and she leaves in two days to spend a super chunk of her summer in NYC for a sort of program at a university. Tom concludes that Emma is smart. Emma says she's not incredibly smart. She looks forward to being able to listen to the show live on an actual radio device.

And so a year ago she was taking the train somewhere and there was a guy sitting next to her. She was doing everything to disassociate from the fellow passenger, i.e., the public transport classics of iPod listening and book reading. Emma mapped out her physical space because she was tired and cranky and in no mood for random conversation. But the dude looked over at her iPod and tapped her on the shoulder. He said, "I think my friend was in that band one time." Emma thinks the band was the Broken Social Scene collective. Tom thought everybody in Canada was in that band. Emma says the guy, about 20, was far too young to have a friend in BSS. Tom thinks this creep should leave young ladies alone. Emma wasn't sure how to respond, so she went with "Oh, really?" The guy replied with "Yeah, I'm pretty sure." They sat there in silence. Emma quickly put the earbuds back in and returned to her book. She says it was particularly troubling because it was in the first hour of a four-hour train ride. Tom isn't sure what to do. He asks Emma to call live from NY. Emma is excited and nervous and hasn't started packing. She will get ready now.

Tom receives the requested audio file from KickTheBobo on his laptop computer, which is not hooked up to the soundboard. Tom giggles after a quick preview of the steam whistle b/w "Bad to the Bone." KTB did it again. Hardhat Radio begins next week.

Comedienne Paul F. Tompkins sends Tom a message about stealing comedian Brian Regan's sharing the road with show horses bit. Tom can't stand that everybody thinks he's a liar like James Frey, the disgraced, Oprah-scarred author of the supposed memoir A Million Little Pieces. PFT plans to report him to "the guild" for joke theft. Tom wonders what guild will receive his complaint. He denies the charge because he's had "Show Dogs" written in his notebook for the past month. The bottom line: Tom can't win tonight. It's the biggest L in The Best Show's eight-year run. Tom says this trainwreck is the radio equivalent of The Love Guru.

Tom almost saw the maligned Mike Myers laffer over the weekend. He asks AP Mike if he read A.O. Scott's scathing The New York Times review of the film. Tom knows that this thing stinks, but he didn't care for AOS's show-offy, hyperbolic quips like calling the it "... an experience that makes you wonder if you will ever laugh again." Tom points out that at least Myers has definitely brought joy to people throughout his comedy career. He wonders what joy A.O. Scott has ever brought into the world. Tom gives one thumb down to The Love Guru and another one to AOS for his weisenheimer diss piece.

- Eric from Bushwick says critics are bitter people. Tom agrees. Eric thinks tonight's show will turn into a W, but Tom doesn't see any possible route to recovery for this one. Eric says that last Saturday night he was hanging out with some neighbors, and around 11:00 p.m. they went across the street to the corner store. He was telling his female friend that he had never cheated in a relationship in his life. A guy standing next to him turned to her while he (Eric) was telling her a story about a woman from Camden County. Eric thinks Tom knows about those Camden County girls. Tom knows it's time to end the call. He's dizzy and no longer knows which way is up.

- Laurie from Miami asks Tom if he got her present on Facebook. Tom thanks her for the The Love Guru icon for his Wall gallery. While that was a freebie, Laurie says she actually paid $5 to send out 10 pieces of virtual flair to other people. Tom believes that pictures of gifts are the biggest fraud going. Laurie doesn't know why she made the purchase. Tom thinks it's because money is a joke to her family. He imagines that Doddy would be unphased by a credit card bill of $10,000 or $100,000. Laurie noticed that all of The Love Guru gifts are "sold" out. Tom wants her to promise not to buy any more Facebook pictures. Laurie agrees to not repeat the saddest thing she's ever done. Tom is pleased to hear that she's drawing the line. He's far less pleased to be two hours into a complete mess of a radio program. Laurie says that some of tonight's callers make one long for the teenage hooligans of the Goshen Krank Krew. Tom says that is sad but true.

Laurie accuses PFT of lying about appearing in Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood. She did not see him on the screen. Tom says that anyone with two working eyes could confirm his presence. He asks AP Mike if there is a good call on Line 1. Nope.

- Phillip in Salt Lake City is hanging out at a bookstore, reading, and drawing. He offers a convoluted explanation of Ws and Ls. Phillip indentifies himself as a creep, and Tom dumps him.

- Paul F. Tompkins says he's not under any illusions that his Prescott character had a bunch of soliloquies in TWBB, but plenty of moviegoers spotted him. Tom says he spotted him the second he heard his voice. PFT is not surprised because Tom loves cinema. Tom says it's a close race between his love of cinema and his love of the entertainment of PFT. He assures PFT that he delivered the entertainment in the film by begging Daniel Plainview to stay at the meeting. But, alas, it was not to be. Plainview would not accept the lease, even as a gift. Tom asks PFT if he mouthed Plainview's lines during the scene. PFT says he did, which is why his face is never seen alongside Daniel Day Lewis. Tom assumes there were cue cards. PFT says PTA provided the actors with cue cards and ear-bud prompters.

PFT explains that he did not mean to imply that Tom was a thief who should have his Caberet card revoked. (I lost mine in 1997 when I started an intense, Hammerhead-approved pit during a Gregg Rogell set at the Gotham Comedy Club.) Tom doesn't like being lumped in with the likes of Carlos Mencia. PFT says he was recently on the Weird-O-Wood lot where Mencia's Comedy Central skein is taped. He noticed a sign with the official name of the show: Mind of Mencia with Carlos Mencia. PFT speculates that the show could go on even if Mencia retires. The show would retain the mind of Mencia, but Robert Kelly, and a rotating group of comics, would take over the bodily hosting duties. PFT expects a hosting stint by "Gil Koy" (Jo Koy?), a name he often sees on the marquee of The Laugh Factory on Sunset when Jon Lovitz or Bob Saget have a night off.

Tom hears some clinks that sound like drink mixology. PFT says he's making a highball to quench his thirst after a long day. He typically likes to relax with a cold beverage when he listens to The Best Show. PFT says he lost track of time, and then his hands were mixing a drink from muscle memory, not unlike the involuntary antics of Ufologist Budd Hopkins or the monocled Budd Friedman, founder of The Improv comedy club. PFT thinks Budd's monocle was a good trademark. Tom is surprised that he doesn't remember it. PFT says it's probably because it was stoooo-pid. He reports that as of a few years ago, Budd still sports the monocle. Tom sees the monocle as the ascot-trumping apex of arrogance. PFT points out that it's hard to bail on the monocle once people have seen it. You can't walk into a party with a monocle and then put it away after five minutes of mingling. PFT says that you have to ride it out for the whole night and maybe bring it back at another event to let people know that you are either dedicated to it as an accessory or wear it as a medical necessity. He suspects that the monocle is a very inefficient vision tool because it depends on the person holding it in place with the eye muscles. Tom imagines that you would get a terrible brain headache from the facial squeezing required to maintain oracular stability. Tom gives thumbs down to Budd Friedman. PFT tosses Colonel Wilhelm Klink under the bus as well. Tom wonders if Winston Churchill was a monocle wearer. He's sure he at least owned one.

Tom hears some sirens in the background. PFT says it's just the soundtrack to another night in Hollywood. Tom compares it to the Oscar-winning Crash, a puzzle film about racial tensions in Lipstick City. PFT says it's just like Crash: boring. Three fire trucks and an ambulance zip by to indicate that a four-alarm fire is blazing, perhaps the result of a match fight gone awry. Tom says that people will now be able to figure out what neighborhood PFT lives in. PFT doesn't like this sleuthing opportunity at all. Tom braces himself for the possibility of doing another tribute next week. PFT is amused that Tom considers his commentary on Carlin to be a "tribute." Tom believes it's the tribute he would have wanted. He says there is no "too soon" with him because he was so miserable and wished death on everyone. Tom bets that in his last moment Carlin wished for more time on Earth. PFT says it was probably because he was contracted to do 13 more HBO specials. HBO will now drain the money from his estate, leaving Carlin's surviving relatives with nothing. Tom is pretty sure that HBO had not cut those checks. PFT thinks that 30 years ago HBO paid him $26 million up front. Tom envisions a scenario where Carlin signed a lifetime deal for $1 million, thinking the nascent premium cabler would go out of business in a few years. Tom assumes that the money went right up his nose, and then he was locked into doing the specials until his death.

PFT confirms that Tom did not actually see The Love Guru. Tom says he approached the box office with his lady friend and almost bought tickets for The Love Guru, which was screening in 25 minutes. He decided against it and saw Kung Fu Panda instead. Tom was charmed by the charming panda. PFT wants to know some of the vocal luminaries that participated in this project. Tom runs down the impressive cast: JB, Angelina Jolie, Ian McShane, who played the villain (aka The Bad Guy), Dustin Hoffman, David Cross, Seth Rogen, and real-life human martial artist Jackie Chan. PFT asks Tom if there are any actors that should have had a role in the film. Tom says that he would have enjoyed hearing some lines from Tom Bergeron. PFT suggests that his voice is too distinctive to effectively disappear into an animated character. Tom thinks filmmakers should take a shot on Bergeron and give him some voicework. While Bob Saget is too on the nose, PFT would have welcomed the vocal stylings of his former Full House co-star, Dave Coulier.

Tom points out that Saget already did enough voices in the horrible (yet very timely!) Farce of the Penguins, a filthy adult parody of a film aimed at six year olds. PFT says any public desire to see March of the Penguins mocked by anyone burned out a week after it hit theaters. Saget, however, aimed to sink it, buying reels of penguin stock footage and assembling his buddies for some dirty talk sessions: penguins brokering drug deals, a penguin that looks like a hooker, penguins doing what Gene Simmons would call "things," etc. Saget used his sitcom and testicular-trauma video clips money to pay some recent film school graduate to sift through it all. Tom imagines the kid who normally engages in chin-rubbing arguments about how Francois Truffaut went too soft and sentimental in his middle period stuck in an editing bay watching 600 hours of waddling penguins. Who's soft now?! Tom is amazed that he got mad at a kid who doesn't exist. He hates that kid.

PFT promotes his show this Thursday at Cobb's Comedy Club (aka the Triple-C) in San Francisco and manages to insult what he calls the "flyover states" in the process. With Patton Oswalt's show this weekend at Caroline's in NYC, the coasts are covered comedy-wise. The middle is in trouble. AP Mike holds up a card that says "Enough PFT," but Tom wants him to stay. AP Mike tries to take over the controls to boot the comedienne. PFT can't wait to hear what Tom has coming up next if he needs to get off the phone. A voice that Tom claims is AP Mike's orders him to hang up. PFT obeys because he doesn't want Tom to get in a fight with AP Mike, who sounds upset.

- A caller says that PFT sure does laugh a lot. He asks Tom if that is one of his comedian buddies. Goodbye.

- Harold in Greenpoint calls to find out if Tom wants to talk about the city's plans to destroy Coney Island. He just attended a big scope hearing at Abraham Lincoln High School out on Ocean Parkway. Harold says the city intends to shrink the 61-acre amusement area to a mere nine acres. The other 52 acres will be used for high-rise hotels, luxury condos, malls, and entertainment retail shops between Surf Avenue and the Bowery. Tom thinks that sounds nice. He's kidding.

Harold says everyone is upset because the city put out a compromise plan to restore Coney Island, and everyone was happy with it except for Thor Equities, LLC, the builders who bought up all the property. Tom wants to know what people will do to stop this. Harold reports that at tonight's scope hearing Dick Zigun, who is the head of Coney Island USA and was appointed by Mayor Bloomberg to lead the Coney Island Development Corporation, resigned because he felt the new plan was marred by an insatiable appetite for destruction. Tom wonders if the die has already been cast. Harold believes the main problem is that the mayor gets what he wants. He says that the hotel and high-rises could be erected in other parts of Coney Island without destroying the actual amusement area, e.g., the former Astroland, which was sold last year. The bottom line: Thor Equities are known for building malls, not amusements.

Tom asks Harold if Coney Island is doomed. Harold thinks the only possible way to change the minds of the politicians is to stage massive protests. Tom says this is another reason why NJ beats NY. He invites Harold to come enjoy NJ's boardwalks to get his fix of funnel cakes and Ferris wheels. Harold, who loves the Jersey shore, agrees that NY has a lot to learn from NJ. Tom says it would be nice to save Coney Island, but NY is full of Bad Guys and NJ is full of Good Guys. The garden state clearly has their priorities straight. Tom points out that Asbury Park was abandoned only after getting run out by the superior boardwalks. Point Pleasant is dominant! Seaside Heights is eternal!

Harold visited the gorgeous Seaside Heights last year, and he wishes that Coney Island was similarly preserved. Harold also has fond memories of NJ's Palisades Amusement Park back in the day. Tom touts the original Merry-Go-Round rides at Seaside Heights as particularly pleasant spins. He recalls going on Coney Island's B&B Carousell (now being restored in Marion, Ohio) with his Deadwood-loving nephew, and some guy sitting on one of the horses tried to sell them crack. The worst part: His nephew bought some. Tom says that his nephew was selling cocaine, and he was mad at the guy for dealing crack on his turf. Harold admits that the drug trade is a problem in Coney Island. Tom says the whole thing is horrible. Harold is hoping for the Hail Mary pass to turn the tide at the mayor's office. Tom fears that it might be over now that the big money is settling in. Harold says his family used to own and live underneath a Coney Island rollercoaster called the Thunderbolt. He asks Tom if he ever saw Woody Allen's Annie Hall. Tom's no longer interested in Coney Island talk.

Trussbridge Tater Tots catcher Eddie Dinkins stares down the beast on third base

- Tor Halversom identifies himself as Little Mike's father, and Tom sounds a bit leery about what is coming next. He offers a meager "Hi, Tor," and Tor wonders if that's the best he can do. He wants to know who Tom thinks he is because he kicked his son out of last Saturday's baseball game. Tom asks Tor if he really wants to discuss the ejection on the radio. Tor says he will talk about it anyplace anywhere and calls Tom a jerk for thinking otherwise.

Tom informs listeners that on weekends he works as an umpire for Newbridge Little League games, and this past weekend he and Tor had a little incident. Tor says the only incident is that Tom completely blew that call. He believes that Tom and everybody there knows that Little Mike was safe. Tom says that everybody saw that Little Mike technically crossed home plate to score a run, but he wants Tor to explain how his son pulled it off. Tor says that Little Mike simply slid into home plate. Tom describes his arrival a bit differently: a cleat-first leap through the air followed by spiking the opposing catcher in the chest. Tor wants to know what Tom's point is. Tom says his point is that it's horrible and completely against both the explicit rules and spirit of the game. Tor argues that his son was simply competing and calls Tom a creep for not realizing it.

Tom chuckles in disbelief at this explanation because the catcher ended up in the hospital with a cracked rib. Tor says the player just needed to walk it off. He sees it as proof that weaklings should not be competing in youth sports. Tom tells Tor that the kid was seriously hurt by Little Mike's attack. Tor repeats that he just needed to walk it off, but Tom isn't sure how that approach works for a cracked rib. Tor doubts that it was badly cracked. Tom says that Tor is lucky that Little Mike wasn't hauled off to jail for the assault. Tor laughs heartily at the suggestion of criminal behavior. He tells Tom that Little Mike would never, ever be arrested. Tom wonders why Tor refers to his son as "Little Mike." Tor says he's just a 4' 8" kid, but Tom puts his weight at north of 200. Tor says Little Mike actually weighs 206 pounds. Tom points out that he's playing with much smaller children. Tor informs Tom that he is not allowed to refer to his son as being fat. Tom says he did no such thing. Tor believes that Tom was implying that by guessing his weight. Tom says he was only implying that Little Mike has a considerable size advantage over the other players. Tor says only he and Time magazine can call his son fat. He reveals that Little Mike is on the cover of the latest issue of Time, which runs the "America's Child Obesity Epidemic: What Can We Do To Save Our Kids?" feature story. Tor thinks that Time editors went a little heavy on the historionics of the title. Tom says the word he's trying to say is "histrionics." Tor says historionics is when something is made bigger than it should be. Tom lets it go.

Tor is very mad at Time for snapping Little Mike's picture from behind in a weak attempt to obscure his identity. He mentions that the magazine (it was actually competitor Newsweek) did the same thing a couple of years ago to Newbridge barbershop singer, Zachary Brimstead, Esq. The cover of that issue promoted an obesity epidemic story with a picture of half of a guy wearing an unmistakable cumberbun and sweatpants ensemble. It was Mr. Brimstead leaving The Fudge Tub at Newbridge Commons. Tor doesn't think it's fair to use these anonymous photos. While Little Mike is only seen from the shoulders down, all of his little friends recognize the high tube socks and chocolate stains on his shirt. Tor reports that some kids are spreading rumors that they are not chocolate stains. He hates that kids can be so cruel. Tom cites another example of child cruelty: Little Mike flying through the air and cleating another kid in the chest at home plate. Tor wonders if Tom will try to tell him that Jesse Owens wouldn't have done the same thing at the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin. Tom doesn't think that the track and field star played baseball. Tor says there is documented proof that Owens wanted to spike Adolf Hitler. Tom wonders if Tor is comparing the Little League catcher to the German dictator. Tor admits that, yes, he basically is doing that.

Tor says that doctors can also be cruel. They recently informed him that if Little Mike continues with his unhealthy diet, he will need a pastemaker by the time he's 30 years old. Tor is saddened by this diagnosis. Tom doesn't know what a pastemaker is. Tor guesses that it's some kind of device that shoots glue into your heart in order to slow down its rate of pumping. Tom recommends that Tor schedule an additional consultation with Little Mike's physicans to learn more details about this treatment option. Tor attempts to forbid Tom from giving orders because he will give the orders, but there is confusion about who is giving orders to whom. Tor wants Tom to ask Call Screener Andrea to clear up the division of authority between them. Tom informs him that the call screener is a male boy named Mike. Tor points out that there is hardly any relation to his Little Mike because Little Mike is a real man. He says that Little Mike wants to talk to Tom. Tom isn't sure if he wants to talk to him. Tor calls for his "honey" to take the phone.

Little Mike says he's not doing so good and wants Tom to issue an apology for hurting his feelings. He refers to Tom as a "stupid dumb ape" for his umpiring antics. Tom notices that Little Mike sounds like a baby Zachary Brimstead. (And also a bit like Jame Gumb!) Little Mike explains that his chin rolls are affecting the sound of his voice. Tom refuses to apologize. Little Mike says he has to apologize and then reinstate him for the big game next week against Tunnelbridge. Tom tells Little Mike that his head is vibrating from listening to the Brimsteadian voice in his headphones. Little Mike reiterates that the chin rolls are to blame for the sonic irregularities. He also seems saddened by the doctor's warning about possibly needing a pastemaker. Tom says there is no way that he will reinstate Little Mike. Little Mike argues that the kid had it coming to him because he was like Hitler. He also says that he couldn't help the aggressive slide because he was "in the zone." Tom dismisses both claims. The bottom line: Little Mike broke the rules and delivered a cheap shot. Little Mike warns that Tom will pay for not letting him play. He asks Tom if he knows what his last name is. Tom recalls that it's Halversom. He asks Little Mike if he's part of the Halversom Chocolates Company. Little Mike says that he is.

Tor comes back and suggests that this revelation changes the dynamic of the dispute. Tom says he didn't realize that he was speaking to a Halversom. Tor asks Tom what he plans to do now that he knows. Tom asks Tor if he can at least think about the proper resolution to the Little Mike incident. Tor thinks Tom knows how things are going to go. Tom mentions that things seem to be different since the Halversom family rolled into town. Tor thinks things have changed for the better, but Tom's not so sure. Tor believes that things are now great in Newbridge. He asks Tom what he doesn't like about the current climate. Tom says the Halversom family seem to be running things like some kind of Norwegian mafia. Tor is offended by that and can't wait to see how Tom will dig himself out of this accusation. Tom explains that there is a bad, weird vibe in town with people becoming increasingly tense as rising inflation triggers an economic downturn. He's even noticed that Officer Harrups appears to be scared. Tor laughs. He says that that veteran lawman's fear is justified. Tom wants to know why. Tor refuses to elaborate.

He expects that Tom will now accuse his family of having the Mayubernatorial election postponed until August. Tom says there are rumblings in the air that something is going on. Tor assures him that nothing is going on. He says it's not his family's fault that all the polling stations got flooded with chocolate. Tom points out that Tor owns the only chocolate factory in town, so he's a reasonable suspect when a 16-inch layer of chocolate mysteriously appears at the polling stations. Tor says it's very typical to always blame the new family in town. He predicts that Tom will try to blame the Halversoms for the candidates dropping out of the race. Tom says it is very strange to have three people call tonight to drop out. He also just got an e-mail announcing that Timmy von Trimble, Ronald Thomas Clontle, and Murder Junkies bassist Merle Allin have halted their campaigns. Tor wants to know why. Tom says they all cited a desire to spend more time with their families instead of pursuing elected office. Tor thinks that makes sense because family comes first. Tom's not sure how much of a pull that would be for Merle Allin. Tor is sure Merle has some family to spend time with. Tom thinks it's the politician's ultimate cop-out response when there's deeper trouble brewing. Tor says that thought has never entered his mind.

Tor does want to take this moment to toss his chocolate-covered horn helmet into the ring. He thinks it's a crazy coincidence that he's entering the race on the same night that six candidates dropped out. Tom agrees. Tor wants to celebrate the great country of America and this great city of Newbridge. He bets Tom that he will be the next person to lead it. Tor announces that he's running on behalf of the Chocolate Machine Gun and Switchblade Party. Tom wants to hear about the platform of the CMG&Sers. Tor thinks their slogan best encompasses their overall vision: "VOTE for Halversom ... and LIVE!" Tom thinks it's terrible, straight-out threat; Tor thinks it's great. He asks Tom which candidate he'll vote for. Tom remains undecided. Tor is upset, but Tom says it's his right to make his decision when he's ready. Plus, he now has more time since the election has been pushed back to August. Tor says, "We'll see." That's all he'll say for now aside from a parting shot for Tom: "Get ready to eat our chocolate." He hangs up.

- PowerCaller Dave from Knoxville is thrown off by all the political intrigue tonight, but he's trying to keep it together and on topic. He says that around the time of 8th / 9th / 10th grade, a new kid appeared on the scene from Macon, GA. The kid exhibited a hyperactive imagination and claimed that at age 10 he hitchhiked from Macon to Athens, GA, to see a football game. He also boasted that he was friends with the Allman brothers, particularly Gregg Allman. The kid said that from age 11 on he washed Gregg's cars, and it was not uncommon to receive tips in the $50 to $100 range for particularly sparkly results.

DfK recalls an elaborate story about Gregg Allman paying an animal trainer to bring a lion to his property. He and his friends just thought this kid was out of control. DfK says that the kid eventually married one of the girls in their circle of friends. Over the years everyone went their separate ways, and when the guy was about 35, they heard that he was getting divorced. Around the same time DfK's dad suffered a stroke, so he returned to Nashville every weekend. DfK says this gave him an opportunity to visit the guy and his now ex-wife. When he visited the wife, she was going through the guy's old stuff to metaphorically clear out her life. She pitched a Polaroid at him. DfK says it was a picture of the guy at age 12 or 13 with Gregg Allman's arm around him. While there were no lions visible in the shot, the Allman connection had at least some basis in truth. Tom says that sometimes the liar is not the liar. He considers the possibility that DfK is the liar in this story. DfK offers to provide references to vouch for him.

Tom informs DfK that a PowerCaller has all the privileges of a SuperCaller. DfK says his son, Andy from Knoxville, wants to tell Tom about his trip to NYC, so he will probably call in the next week or two. Tom is ready for him. He says that AfK gets half of DfK's telephonic clout. DfK wonders which half. Tom says he will have to find out for himself.

- Andrew in Philadelphia (not the one from Danielson) congratulates Tom on last week's giant W. When he was younger his family used to vacation in Wildwood, NJ, and he spent a lot of time prowling the boards. Andrew says he would often observe a homeless gentleman who begged for money. He seemed oddly content with his lot in life, and Andrew and his friends generally ignored him. And then one day his buddy saw the gentleman walk to the parking lot, get in his car, and drive off after a day of panhandling. The woman at the t-shirt store that provided their Rocky shirts told them that the gentleman was homeless by choice. Tom wants to know how many Rocky shirts Andrew and his friends were buying throughout a summer.

Andrew clarifies that he said rock t-shirts. He never owned a Rocky shirt. Tom imagines the shopkeeper promoting a new Rocky shirt depicting Adrian at the top of the stairs, yelling, "You can't win!" After the buzz for that one died down, she'd crank up the hype machine for the shipment of Rocky V shirts with Tommy Gunn and Rocky smashed against a chainlink fence. Rocky fans would then anxiously await the delivery of the shirt featuring Paulie's Robot from Rocky IV. Andrew returns to his story about the homeless guy, but Tom doesn't want to hear it. He's interested in the fontasy, not the reality. In his mind, Andrew said Rocky shirts, which are so much more interesting than rock t-shirts.

Tom plays a snippet of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" for no apparent reason. He asks AP Mike to declare tonight's show a W or an L. Mr. Negative votes L. Tom vows to remember this. He promises that next week he will get back to basics with full-on Hardhat Radio. Tom will bring a lunch pail containing a sandwich and a thermos, and then he will climb 81 stories above Jersey City to do the show from a girder. Tom realizes that you're not supposed to be out there in the middle of the night. He wonders if he's off the air because the phones are so dead. Tom considers doing some dirty material if the show is only going out on the Internet feed. AP Mike confirms that Tom is off the air. Tom abandons his plan when some lines light up.

- A caller says he's been listening for the past hour during his drive from Hoboken to his new home in Pennsylvania, and he can't get the concept of the program. He's kind of lost. Tom says he's also lost. The caller asks Tom if he mainly just tells stories. Tom says he opens the phones, takes calls, and it lands where it lands. The caller says it's definitely interesting, and he's never heard anything like it.

The caller explains that he moved out of Hoboken because he got sick of the Rolls-Royce diseased yuppies and their $750,000 condos. He thinks that it was nicer when it was a slum. Tom asks the caller to name his favorite thing about the glory days of Hoboken. He suspects it was Benny Tudino's. The caller says he used to work as a delivery guy for the Good Guys of BT. He remains friends with their family. Tom asks him if he still gets a free slice. The caller confirms that he still receives the pizza perk. Tom says more power to him and urges him to drive safely the rest of the way to PA.

- Fellow Zabra Will from Greenpoint says he was just at Di Fara Pizza off Avenue J. He thought it was pretty good. He asks Tom if he's ever been to this pizzeria. Tom wants to know what he ordered, but he first wants to know where Will sat. Will says there is not much in-house seating at Di Fara. He ordered a slice and waited an hour for it. Will is happy to report that it was worth the wait. Tom wonders if the pizza did a little dance upon arrival. Will mentions something about going to the airport to pick up a friend who was visiting his girlfriend in Florence, Italy. Tom has no idea what he's talking about.

- Ted from Melrose, MA, wants Tom's take on the Boston Celtics winning the NBA title. Tom says it was a Proud Moment for the team and the city. He speculates that the Celtics will sign Dwyane Wade or Caramello Anthony to repeat next year, and then scoop up Lebron James Lebron James in two years to continue their streak of false victories. Ted says he's willing to do whatever it takes. He points out that the people in Boston care more about sports than the average town's residents. Tom thinks Boston is the weirdest city in America. Ted asks Tom if it's weirder than New York. Tom gives Boston the victory in the Weird War because its people don't actually think they are weird. They think New Yorkers are weird. Ted likes New York, but he loves Boston because it makes more sense to him. Tom clarifies that Melrose is a place that makes sense to him -- he doesn't live in Boston. He GOMPs Ted for riding on the coattails of true Bostonians.

- A caller wants to talk to The Dude. Tom puts him on hold. The Dude comes on the air and asks the caller what's up. The caller announces that he was up in Boston two weeks ago. He thinks WFMU sounds pretty bored tonight and suggests stirring up some excitement by giving away some concert tickets. Tom comes back and tells the caller to stay tuned for the "Midnight Ticket Oasis" on the Evan "Funk" Davies show. He previews an exciting EFD installment that will plunge deep into the Rahsaan Roland Kirk archives, including a rare 1968 show at The Village Underground. Tom says that EFD will thrill fans by kicking off the show with 85 minutes of RRK doing circular breathing exercises and playing nose flute.

He declares the show a W, earned by the blood, sweat, and tears on his side of the glass. The audience did zilch tonight. Tom won it in the trenches.